N or M?. Agatha Christie

said incredulously:

      ‘And there really are these—these swine?’

      ‘Everywhere. As I told you. In our service. In the fighting forces. On Parliamentary benches. High up in the Ministries. We’ve got to comb them out—we’ve got to! And we must do it quickly. It can’t be done from the bottom—the small fry, the people who speak in the parks, who sell their wretched little news-sheets, they don’t know who the big bugs are. It’s the big bugs we want, they’re the people who can do untold damage—and will do it unless we’re in time.’

      Tommy said confidently:

      ‘We shall be in time, sir.’

      Grant asked:

      ‘What makes you say that?’

      Tommy said:

      ‘You’ve just said it—we’ve got to be!’

      The man with the fishing line turned and looked full at his subordinate for a minute or two, taking in anew the quiet resolute line of the jaw. He had a new liking and appreciation of what he saw. He said quietly:

      ‘Good man.’

      He went on:

      ‘What about the women in this place? Anything strike you as suspicious there?’

      ‘I think there’s something odd about the woman who runs it.’

      ‘Mrs Perenna?’

      ‘Yes. You don’t—know anything about her?’

      Grant said slowly:

      ‘I might see what I could do about checking her antecedents, but as I told you, it’s risky.’

      ‘Yes, better not take any chances. She’s the only one who strikes me as suspicious in any way. There’s a young mother, a fussy spinster, the hypochondriac’s brainless wife, and a rather fearsome-looking old Irishwoman. All seem harmless enough on the face of it.’

      ‘That’s the lot, is it?’

      ‘No. There’s a Mrs Blenkensop—arrived three days ago.’

      ‘Well?’

      Tommy said: ‘Mrs Blenkensop is my wife.’

       ‘What?’

      In the surprise of the announcement Grant’s voice was raised. He spun round, sharp anger in his gaze. ‘I thought I told you, Beresford, not to breathe a word to your wife!’

      ‘Quite right, sir, and I didn’t. If you’ll just listen—’

      Succinctly, Tommy narrated what had occurred. He did not dare look at the other. He carefully kept out of his voice the pride that he secretly felt.

      There was a silence when he brought the story to an end. Then a queer noise escaped from the other. Grant was laughing. He laughed for some minutes.

      He said: ‘I take my hat off to the woman! She’s one in a thousand!’

      ‘I agree,’ said Tommy.

      ‘Easthampton will laugh when I tell him this. He warned me not to leave her out. Said she’d get the better of me if I did. I wouldn’t listen to him. It shows you, though, how damned careful you’ve got to be. I thought I’d taken every precaution against being overheard. I’d satisfied myself beforehand that you and your wife were alone in the flat. I actually heard the voice in the telephone asking your wife to come round at once, and so—and so I was tricked by the old simple device of the banged door. Yes, she’s a smart woman, your wife.’

      He was silent for a minute, then he said:

      ‘Tell her from me, will you, that I eat dirt?’

      ‘And I suppose, now, she’s in on this?’

      Mr Grant made an expressive grimace.

      ‘She’s in on it whether we like it or not. Tell her the department will esteem it an honour if she will condescend to work with us over the matter.’

      ‘I’ll tell her,’ said Tommy with a faint grin.

      Grant said seriously:

      ‘You couldn’t persuade her, I suppose, to go home and stay home?’

      Tommy shook his head.

      ‘You don’t know Tuppence.’

      ‘I think I am beginning to. I said that because—well, it’s a dangerous business. If they get wise to you or to her—’

      He left the sentence unfinished.

      Tommy said gravely: ‘I do understand that, sir.’

      ‘But I suppose even you couldn’t persuade your wife to keep out of danger.’

      Tommy said slowly:

      ‘I don’t know that I really would want to do that… Tuppence and I, you see, aren’t on those terms. We go into things—together!’

      In his mind was that phrase, uttered years ago, at the close of an earlier war. A joint venture…

      That was what his life with Tuppence had been and would always be—a Joint Venture…